January 17, 2008

Walking Home

Walking home from the funeral home at nine o'clock at night, I'm suddenly so grateful for the cold and the snow and the quiet, and for a moment I can really pray.

The snowflakes hit my face and turn into water as the heat gets pulled out of me and goes into them. And I know at that moment that the breath of life that God put into Adam somehow weaved its way down through history to me, and I pray for all those people that I know and don't know.

The snow crunches under my crappy brown habit shoes and it makes me hear the quiet of a snowy night, and it gives me just a glimpse of the silence of eternity and the Word of God spoken into It.

And I'm so grateful for the quiet and the cold and the empty island of peace between the previous task and the next project, like the Holy of Holies at the center of the Temple that God demanded be left empty.

Disclaimer

I hereby renounce anything I may have posted to this blog which is contrary to Sacred Scripture as it has been authentically interpreted by the Apostles and their legitimate successors gathered in ecumenical council and in union with our Holy Father, the successor of St. Peter, or is contrary to the Rule of our holy father St. Francis as glossed by his Testament to the friars.